Dream or No Dream?
by facemygeneration
Summary: Dean and Cas were stuck in Purgatory, leaving Sam all alone. But what if that was only a dream? When Dean, Cas, and Sam awake they find that they are all just patients at a mental hospital, and everything that has happened to them were sleeping delusions. Will they believe it, or will they fight to get back? Do they even want to? Based off a Tumblr meme.
1. Chapter 1

Dream or No Dream?

facemygeneration

Summary: Dean and Cas were stuck in Purgatory, leaving Sam all alone. But what if that was only a dream? When Dean, Cas, and Sam awake they find that they are all just patients at a mental hospital, and everything that has happened to them were sleeping delusions. Will they believe it, or will they fight to get back? Do they even want to? Based off a Tumblr meme.

* * *

"Cas?"

Dean looked around wildly, scanning the forest for Cas, or really just anyone. He didn't want to meet any monsters, at least not yet, but he'd rather be fighting with some bad guy than standing all alone. He wasn't familiar with his surroundings, since all he knew was that he was in Purgatory. Cas gave him that little tidbit before he ditched and left Dean vulnerable.

As he waited to see if the angel would reappear, he wondered whether the trip to Purgatory had straightened out Castiel's scrambled up brains. If so, he could be a big asset. Assuming he came back, that is. Where the hell was he, anyway?

"Cas!"

Still no answer. Dean was starting to get worried. The silence was broken every now and then by the rustling of the leaves or low growling sounds, which were just quiet enough to be mistaken for the wind. He heard a twig snap behind him and spun around on his heel.

"Who's there?" he called. Maybe it was stupid to make himself known so quickly, but Dean figured that if whatever it was didn't see or hear him by now, they must be idiots themselves. He could probably take them down pretty easily.

Take him down and then do what? Could he kill something in Purgatory? If so, where did they go? No…It couldn't be possible. No one ever died in Hell, as he remembered all too well. It shouldn't be any different here.

Peering into the shadows of the forest, he could barely make out the shape of something big. Bigger than a wendigo…much bigger. Dean knew that he wouldn't be able to handle this alone, especially with no sure way to kill whatever it was. If Cas didn't come back soon, he was so screwed.

"_CAAAAASSSSS!"_

Dean didn't hear an answer, but that might have had something to do with everything around him starting to become blurry. Had some monster shot him with a poison dart or something? What the hell was happening? His surroundings went from blurry to a hazy gray colour. Just as the rest of his vision started to disappear into a sea of black, he saw bright, powerful light shine from the forest where the creature had been seconds before. The light faded, and Dean felt a sharp prick on his arm. Seconds later, he felt himself drop to the ground as if all his energy had been sapped.

He had expected the ground to be much harder, seeing as it was a forest and all. But when he hit the floor it felt somewhat cushioned, like a fluffed up bed. He could feel his arms and legs were moving. Something was pushing him down, keeping him down. Slowly his senses came back to him, and he forced his own body to be still.

As he lay there, he heard a dull droning. It sounded like voices, but very far off. He didn't make an effort to listen yet, though. He was much too preoccupied with what had just happened. He had been in the forest, and it seemed as if he was about to get pummeled by some giant creature, when all of a sudden things started to go black. Maybe something had hit him on the head? There had to be more than that one monster in Purgatory…Had they teamed up? And if so, where was he now?

Then something else came back to him. Before he had hit the floor, there had been some sort of light. It definitely was not just the sunlight. It seemed almost…heavenly.

Cas! Did the angel come back for him and burn that sucker out with his super-Grace? Dean silently thanked the guy, and promised to find him and return the favour once he figured out what the hell was going on here. He hoped that Cas was alright, wherever he was.

His ears regained full power just in time to hear a couple different voices. They sounded rushed and worried, and again he wondered where he was. One voice, a woman, definitely sounded more in control, while the other one, a young girl maybe, seemed to be taking orders.

"Should we use restraints?" asked the young girl.

There was a short pause, as if the other was thinking about it. "No, I believe that he's waking up now. After that, he'll be okay."

"Are you sure? He's been pretty aggressive when waking up in the past."

"Dr. Rute and I think his dreams are the cause of his outbursts. He seems to have calmed down, so I'm sure that he'll be up and acting like a functioning member of society soon. Leave him alone with me for now, we don't want to overwhelm him when he wakes."

Dean understood that they were talking about him, and probably that weird seizure that he seemed to have. He wondered what had happened, and why he had stopped. He tried to open his eyes and give faces to the voices he had just heard, but his eyelids were too heavy. He hoped that they weren't some new type of crazy monsters who were planning on eating him. The woman had said something about doctors, though…

His thoughts were interrupted by the younger girl whispering something. It sounded like somewhat like "be careful," but he couldn't be sure. He heard the younger girl walk away with light, quick steps. That definitely wasn't the sound of feet on a forest floor. The other woman made no noise. He still had no idea what was going on, but the voices had sounded vaguely familiar to him. He couldn't quite remember who they were, but he knew that he liked them. He sensed that the he and the woman were close, but he couldn't quite place her in his memories.

That wasn't too surprising, though, because his memories seemed much too jumbled up at that moment to think about anything in particular. He was suddenly aware that he was lying on a bed, not the floor of a forest. From the feeling of the bed and what the woman had said, he guessed that he was in a hospital. The moment his mind made that connection, imaginary red lights flashed and sirens blared and every instinct screamed for him to get the hell out of there. Hospitals were no place for hunters unless it was really serious.

_Was_ it really serious? He couldn't remember why he was there in the first place. He had yet to open his eyes, so he couldn't scan his body for injuries visually. He wiggled around in the bed and was pleased to find nothing in his body was screaming in protest as of yet.

Finally, once he was satisfied that he wasn't hurt, he ventured to open his eyes. The room was bright in that way-too-bright kind of way. Dean's mind instantly went to the worst possible scenarios, but he pushed those to the back of his mind. His gut told him he was safe, at least for now. This was comforting to him because his gut instincts were rarely wrong.

What his gut also told him, though, was that neither Sam nor Cas were in the room with him. Another red alert starting going off in his head, and Dean had to tell himself to calm down for a while before he actually starting taking his own orders. He knew that he had to stay cool and collected if he was ever going to get himself out of here and find them, although he had no idea where "here" was.

* * *

"Dean? Cas? Dean, where are you? _Dean!_"

The young girl walked into the next room over to find the resident freakishly tall man was screaming his head off—again. Just like his brother, this one, Sam, was also super strong. Luckily, Dr. Rute had let them put restraints on him. She wouldn't want to be alone in a room with this guy during one of his episodes if he didn't have them. For now, though, all she had to do was keep him still long enough to inject the sedatives into his system.

Even that was pretty difficult, though. The guy was thrashing, bouncing, and thrusting his body ever which way. It was actually pretty impressive, seeing as he had both his wrists and ankles tied to the bed. She hoped he would wake up soon. They seemed to, as Dr. Rute and Dr. Wayk had said, calm down significantly when they awoke.

She tried to push down his torso with her left arm, while using her right to stick in the needle one handed. A wayward arm ended up clocking her in the right face, and she fell over. Thinking of how good his aim was for a dude who was sleeping, she rubbed her jaw and got back up. Usually, she would be pretty annoyed, but she could forgive Sam. She just hoped it didn't leave a mark; she didn't want the doctors to get mad at him.

She finally was able to stick the needle into the directed place on the crook of his neck, right above the bone. It wasn't traditional, but that was what the doctors said to do. She was just the nurse, after all. The drugs couldn't be too strong, anyway, because the patients usually woke up pretty soon after and were walking about in almost no time.

Gradually, he stopped moving and settled down into the bed. She cooed to him as she waited for him to wake up. She and Sam had developed the closest thing you can have to a friendship in a place like this, and she always enjoyed talking to him. He was down to Earth and seemed very wise, even though he was still so young.

Right on schedule, the abnormally large patient opened his eyes. His features seemed so much softer when he wasn't flipping out entirely, and she couldn't help but pity him. Was it really Sam's fault that this atrocity had happened to him? It's just genetics. He could have grown up and done something with his life. She wondered what he would've been. A doctor? Lawyer? He definitely could've made it as a model, she thought, as he stretched his arms over his head casually.

His face looked very confused, so she gave him some time to adjust. It usually didn't take him very long to get his bearings. Unlike his brother, he was pretty quick. Though, not as quick as that other guy that they seemed to know. He woke up and just _knew_. In her opinion, it was very disconcerting.

He turned his head slowly toward her, and she could see the blank look in his eyes. That was always a little weird, since she knew him so well. It was like treating a patient with temporary Alzheimer's or something. Suddenly, though, recognition covered all his features and he grinned widely.

"Hey, Reed!" he said with his trademark crooked smile.

"Good morning, Sam," she replied, trying to stay professional but still friendly.

As she leaned over to take off his restraints, his face fell. Reed frowned in a questioning way, and in answer he put his fingers up to her face, touching just where he had punched her mere minutes before.

"Me?" Sam asked. The way he said it was so full of worry Reed couldn't stand it. His puppy-dog eyes were at full blast, and he was practically sending out waves of guilt in every direction.

"No! No, it wasn't you! Don't worry, Sam."

She was a dirty liar and she knew it, but the relieved and happy look on his face was completely worth it.

"Let's go get you some Jello, yeah?" Reed offered with the most genuine smile she could manage.

Sam beamed right back at her, grabbed her hand, hauled his body out of the bed, and pulled her out the room.

* * *

Dean sat up slowly, still a little worried he might find some terrible injury his previous wiggles hadn't accounted for. Although he had overheard the older woman, who he assumed now was his doctor, say she was going to stay in the room, it was still a bit of a surprise when he was greeted by her face.

Not that her face wasn't pleasant to look at, though. She had straight brown, bordering on black, hair which framed her slender face perfectly. Although all of her features were dainty and womanly, her seemingly permanent expression contorted them in a way that made her whole face look sharp. She gave off a very assertive air, like she was running the show and no one could argue, but Dean sort of liked that. It made him feel safe. He thought it was good that at least one of them knew what was going on.

"Dean," she said. It was short and fast, almost like an order.

"Dr. Wayk," Dean replied.

Dean was surprised by his own words. He had decided already that he knew the woman, but he had no idea that he remembered her name. It seemed as if his memory was coming back, even if it was coming slowly.

"I can see you're still experiencing some confusion. Let me explain. You are in Terayla Mental Hospital on account of serious delusions, slight psychosis, and possible schizophrenia. Luckily, though, these symptoms seem to only plague you when you sleep. Do you have any questions?"

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

Dream or No Dream

Chapter Two

* * *

_Just as a warning to all the story followers, I'm going to a bioengineering camp for about a week. Mostly likely, they will not allow me to use my computer or have wifi, which means that this will be the last chapter I post for a while. I'll make it long, so hopefully it will tide you over until next week when I can update again! Love you guys, and enjoy!_

* * *

"Yeah, I have a whole lot of fucking questions!" Dean practically yelled. This was not the time or place for some quack doctor to go screwing with his mind. He was not a schizo, and he would not sit here and let someone tell him he was. He needed to go find Sammy.

The woman, Dr. Wayk, was now giving him a very scornful look. He didn't appreciate it at all, and felt the desire to slap her bubbling to the surface. He got up from the bed and attempted to walk past her and out of the room, but she moved her tiny little body in the way. He could have knocked her over easily and gone on his merry way, but he wasn't that desperate— yet. With all of the wrath that his eyes could possibly hold, he glared at the quick but unlikable woman.

"You seem to be taking longer than usual to get your bearings, Dean," she stated in an annoyingly matter-of-fact voice.

"Shut up and get the hell out of my way, bitch!" he practically yelled. He would not be part of someone's joke. Sam and Cas might be getting tortured somewhere; they might need his help.

The anger was just rising and boiling. So much so, in fact, that Dean could feel his face getting hot with it. Would this bitch take a hint and move the hell over? He was about to start a nice, old-fashioned rant, when suddenly he felt none of it anymore.

He had no idea where it had gone, but that anger just disappeared. It was like someone had just blown it all away and suddenly his head was clear. He was about to smile and say goodmorning to Dr. Wayk, as he did almost every morning for nearly seven years now, when he realized what had been happening for the past couple of minutes.

"Oh shit," he said under his breath. He looked up at the doctor standing before him, suddenly full of guilt. "Sorry Molly!"

He could not believe he had just called his doctor, the only person besides Sam and Cas who actually gave a shit about him anymore, a bitch. He hadn't been that rude in years. Dean wondered what had gotten into him. Maybe it was something he had eaten the night before. That chicken had tasted a little off… He probably shouldn't have eaten so much of it, but who was he to say no to chicken!

"That's quite all right, Dean. You didn't understand yet. It's to be expected. Although…"

"What?" Dean demanded anxiously.

"Well, it's nothing to be too worried about, but you did take a little longer to 'come to' today," Molly said, putting the hand which wasn't holding clipboard in air-quotation marks.

"What does that mean?" he asked, already knowing the answer but not wanting to hear it.

"Tests."

Dean groaned loudly, and Dr. Wayk laughed for the first time that day. He was always a fun person to be around, especially with his witty conversation, but she especially loved how completely comfortable he was around doctors like her. She knew that sometimes she could be a little intimidating, but she was glad that at least Dean could be relaxed and at ease.

She looked at her clipboard to see when she could fit them into his schedule, deciding that three o'clock would be good enough. She was about to ask him a few questions, when she heard a surprisingly loud noise emanate from the patient.

"Oh…sorry," Dean said sheepishly, looking down at his stomach.

She laughed again, a common occurrence around Dean. "Why don't we get you some breakfast? I'm sure Sam will be there by now."

Dean smiled at the thought of seeing his little brother and nodded. Stepping next to Dr. Wayk, they began to walk side by side out the door and down the hallway toward the cafeteria.

They were almost there, maybe a hundred feet away, when suddenly Dean stopped. He remembered being very worried about something, and he felt that it was urgent he ask about it.

"Molly…where's Cas?"

Her face showed the slightest bit of remorse at the question, but quickly went back to its usual, sinister-looking self. Had he blinked, Dean might have missed it. Molly wondered how to answer the question; it was such a sensitive topic, especially for Dean. She didn't want to lie, but she didn't want to upset him either. She knew that he would be more angry if she fibbed, though, and so she had to tell the truth.

"Cas…well, Cas is in solitary confinement now, Dean. Remember, he woke up night and…" she went silent, not wanting to finish the story.

"And what?" Dean asked. He could almost remember, but couldn't quite grasp it. It felt like the memory was right in front of him, and yet he couldn't quite reach out and touch it. His mind hurt with the effort.

"He…he tried to murder you, Dean."

She could see the pain in his eyes, and instantly felt terrible. She knew she should've lied, and she wished that she had. Was how they were keeping the two apart really the best for them? Sure, he had made one mistake. All three of them had made mistakes at sometime or another.

She tried to shake it away, but the fear was growing. Doubting this one thing was causing her to question the motives of the entire Institution. Maybe what they were doing had never been right, but it was starting to seem like it would be wrong. She secretly hoped that one of them could figure it out before they died in here, insane.

Even though she could see how much pain Dean felt, his only response was "Oh…"

He walked away slowly, as if mulling over what had just been said. She was torn between not wanting him to remember that night, and desperately hoping that he did.

* * *

Sam sat there at the table, completely ignoring his food. There was only one thing he wanted to do right now, and eating wasn't it. His dream last night had been especially exciting, and he was telling it to the only person he trusted to listen and not call him completely crazy.

"Dean was amazing, too! I mean, really baddass, Reed! I wish you could have seen him! Cas just grabbed his head and yanked it back, and Dean made one of those little witty last remark comments that he's always so good at, and then just stabbed him straight through the neck!"

Reed was really trying to focus on a patient's charts, which she had to analyze and write a report on by tomorrow, but she just couldn't take her eyes off of Sam. They way he got so excited about his older brother was just about the cutest thing that she had ever seen. She wondered if they guy knew how much Sam adored him.

"But it was weird; it ended really bad…I woke up with a terrible feeling."

"Yeah, I could tell," she replied. Reed could still feel the throb where the stupid giant had socked her unknowingly that very morning. "What happened?"

"Well, there was a big explosion and then everyone was just…gone."

He looked pained as he talked about it, and worry spiked up in Reed's mind. She hated seeing Sam sad, because she just could _not_ take those puppy-eyes. Resistance against them was futile, knowing you caused them made you want to commit suicide, and not being able to make them go away was the biggest defeat anyone could ever experience.

"Gone? Gone where?"

Maybe she shouldn't have been encouraging him to talk about his dreams like this, but she couldn't help it. If she pretended that she was doing it for the charts, in case Dr. Rute asked, he might not mind. She knew that Dr. Wayk wouldn't. She understood. She didn't feel the same way about Dean that Reed felt about Sam, of course. She was married! But she viewed him as a brother that needed help, maybe even a son. Whatever it was, Dr. Wayk understood being close enough to the patients to want to talk to them about anything.

Sam had paused, as if considering it. "I dunno," he said thoughtfully, "but then Crowley—the really bad king-of-Hell demon, y'know—said that they had gone for good or something weird like that. Whatever it was, I was alone…"

She had been trying to work on her charts as he talked, but the tone in his voice as he said that made her look up quickly. She could see that he was genuinely sad about this, and she instantly wanted to comfort him.

"Hey, Sam. Don't worry about it!" she tried, smiling with as much cheerful energy as she could manage with the low energy she had. "It was just a dream."

He nodded; she was right, of course. He just couldn't shake that feeling of complete and total loneliness from his mind. If had he actually lost Dean… He didn't even want to think about it.

As if on cue, his snarky older brother walked through cafeteria doors. "Dean!" the younger Winchester exclaimed with genuine excitement in his voice.

"Hey, Sammy!" Dean replied, ruffling his brother's hair. "Oh, and hey to you too, Reed."

Reed waved at him awkwardly. They had never been very close, but Dean still liked her because Sam did. That was the way Dean viewed most things, actually. She had to admit, he was a great older brother. No wonder the kid worshipped him.

"I'm going to go get some food. Don't give away my seat though!"

As if he would, thought Reed.

Sam laughed as Dean walked off with a final wave behind his turned back, and looked back to Reed. She was smiling as well.

"You really should eat something, Sam. It's been about an hour now. Your gargantuan body is going to start getting angry at you soon!"

"Hey!" he exclaimed, but he did take a bite. "My body is just unique!" he said between bites. "It possesses character!"

"Oh, sure. 'Character.'" Reed mocked back.

They continued bickering while they waited for Dean to get back with his food. Little did they know, it would take quite a while. When he did finally make, he came lumbering over with three plates, all stacked as high as they could go without falling. Sam and Reed laughed heartily, while Dean focused all his energy on getting to the table with no accidents.

"Pretty hungry, huh?" Sam asked, and laughed yet again. He took a bite of his salad, and Dean scoffed. Sam had the weirdest appetite out of anyone he had ever met. Well, maybe that was overstating it, but he sure didn't have a Winchester appetite.

"Well, yeah!"

Sam acted like he didn't eat at least a plate and a half a day! Silly kid, when would he learn?

"It just seems like you're eating more than usual. I mean, usually you limit it to two plates!" The way he said it made it sound like he was joking, but everyone there could sense the definite worry underlying his voice.

"Hey, don't worry, Sammy. I just had a bad sleep last night and gotta get my energy up."

Sam nodded. He wanted to know what had happened to cause a bad night, but they were prohibited from asking questions about each others' evenings at all, especially about dreams. It was some weird rule that Dr. Rute had made up. He didn't like it, but he also didn't want to get in trouble. They were in an insane asylum, after all. It wasn't like the scary movies, sure, but it was still pretty freaky!

Maybe Sam was just wimpy, though. Especially in comparison to the Sam that he saw in his dreams. That guy was amazing! He sometimes even wished he could be more like him, but he never actually meant it. To have a life like that? Nothing would be worth it. The only thing _that _Sam had going for him was having Dean, and even that was shaky at best. No, he definitely wouldn't want to be stuck there.

Maybe he was bat-shit crazy, just like Dean always called him when he was joking around, but that was still better than that life. At least he didn't have to worry about he and everyone he loved dying.

"What are you thinking about, dude? You've been gone for a while now."

Sam snapped out of his little reverie to find both Dean and Reed staring at him intently. He gave one of his most awkwardly innocent smiles and shrugged his shoulders.

"Just thinkin', I guess," he replied.

"Well, I'm almost done, so stop thinking and start preparing for basketball!" his brother said excitedly. Basketball was one of their favorite parts of the day, but that was mostly because it was one of the only times they could see each other.

"How are you done already?" asked Reed incredulously. She had a good point, too. It had only been minutes since he had sat down with his food, after all. Sam was used to it though, so he just laughed at his brother's voracious appetite. To each his own, and for his brother it was just eating.

"Okay, done!" Dean shouted as if it was some accomplishment to be proud of, which caused his voice to echo across the entire cafeteria. "Basketball time!"

"Well if you guys are gonna go shoot hoops, I should probably get these charts done," Reed conceded reluctantly. It was probably the last thing she wanted to do. Even though she almost always hated sports, she'd rather watch them than fill these out and write about them.

"Good luck!" Sam called as his brother dragged him out of the cafeteria and began to drag him toward the gym.

* * *

"What! Throwing a basketball at my head is completely cheating! Foul!"

Dean ran down the court so fast that there was practically only a streak of color. For some reason, even though they did nothing but basketball, both brothers were always completely fit. They just considered it luck.

As he dunked the ball into Sam's basket, he laughed maniacally and hysterically. He loved playing with Sam, because he always got so crazy about the rules. It was funny to see him flip out. Then when he realized that Dean was doing it on purpose the whole time, his face got really red. That was probably the best part. Ahhh making funny of Sammy: a favorite pastime of Dean's.

Just as he was about to do a classic gloating dance, Dean's head suddenly started to hurt. Actually, hurt was the biggest understatement that could've been made to describe the pain he felt. It was burning through his head like someone had lit an actual fire in there. And just when he thought that it couldn't get any worse, someone nuked it.

If he had thought fire was bad, he was wrong. In fact, it was like a field full of daisies blowing in the wind compared to what came next. The pain was so intense that he begged to pass out. Whatever it was that was causing this, he did not want to figure it out until it was gone at least one thousand miles away. Something that could cause this kind of pain was not something he wanted to meet. He hoped it wasn't some weird type of monster.

Monster? Why would it be a monster? This wasn't one of his stupid dreams!

Maybe someone up there wanted to mock him, but just as he thought that the pain cleared. Dean opened his eyes slowly; being very wary that something terrible might be around. There could be anything, who knows?

He looked around in shock, practically doing a double-take. If he had water in his mouth, he probably would have spat it out like some corny sitcom. He was in his dreams. He was in Purgatory.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

facemygeneration

Author's Note: Sorry I was gone for so long guys, I guess camp just kind of took all energy, creative or otherwise, out of me. Bioengineering can do that to you, I suppose. Also, the italics are really fracking up on my computer, so a bunch of emphasis isn't going to be there that should be. Anyway, hopefully you can forgive me. On with the story!

* * *

CAS!

The thought rang clearly through Dean's head like someone had knocked a Cas-gong in there. He didn't quite understand why he thought it, seeing as Castiel, the man that he had thought was his friend, tried to kill him. He tried to shake the thought off. Something about it made him feel dirty and guilty, like he was keeping some sort of bad secret. Castiel was the one who attacked him, so why should he feel bad? Dean supposed that's what came of living in an insane asylum.

Well, he wasn't actually living in the insane asylum right now, was he? He was in some goddam forest. No, not just any forest. The forest. The Purgatory forest.

He needed to find Dr. Wayk and sort out his crazies. Like, right now. Dreaming was one thing, hallucinations were another.

Dreaming...maybe this was a dream! He had been working himself pretty hard in basketball; he might have passed out. He cringed at the mere thought. Dean Winchester passed out on the floor because of one simple basketball game. It was just depressing.

He tried to take comfort in the thought that his crazies weren't progressing, but something was nagging at the back of his mind.

Dreams aren't supposed to be this realistic.

He understood it when it was at night. When he asked about it, that bitchy guy, Dr. Rute, said it was something about some wacko hormone that your body made at night and mixed with some rare chemicals that the Winchesters had in their bodies. But if he had passed out during the game, it was still day. His body shouldnt be making the hormone. So why did it feel so real?

"...Cas?"

Dean didn't know what was happening, but maybe, just maybe, he was stuck in his dreams. Probably not, but one time he heard that even if it's just a hallucination or dream, if the person believes it's real they can still feel pain. He didn't want to test it out, so his instincts told him that finding dream-Cas would be the best thing to do.

He wasn't sure he would be alive to figure this out if he didn't.

"Cas!"

There was no answer, but Dean sort of expected that. From what he remembered in his dreams, which was quite a bit, was that Castiel had a tendency to up and leave whenever he felt like it. Not one for normal human interactions, anyway. But he-or the Dean in his dreams-seemed to always forgive him for it in the end. And even if he was mad, they would always be friends. Because Dean didn't choose friends lightly, and when he did they became family.

So even though Dean didn't quite expect Cas to come at his call, he knew for some reason that if Cas wasn't coming, there was something important that was keeping him. Maybe that even meant that Cas would be the one in need of saving, not Dean. Whatever it was, he had to figure it out and get the hell out of this forest. That's assuming there was anything other than forests in Purgatory.

But there had to be, right? Not all monsters dwelled in forests, after all. So there had to be other places that the souls of the rest of those big-bads would feel at home. And if he found the habitat of the types of monsters that you could sometimes reason with, maybe he could get some information as to the whereabouts of Castiel.

Not that the idea of reasoning with monsters sounded too appealing to Dean. He was strongly against any type of deals, after all, no matter how many of them he had made in his lifetime. After all the trouble that he had given Sammy for being too nice to some of them, it did seem a little hypocritical to go and search some out for that exact reason, but what else could he do? He would have to go against his nature for the greater good, no matter how cliche that sounded.

He had chosen a random direction and was about to set off, when he remembered something from his dream the night before. Maybe he could figure out what had happened to that big shadow in the dark, and what that bright light was. He looked around to see if he could remember anything, but it wasn't too hard to find where the incident had taken place.

Over to the right there was a patch of grass pretty much blown away. It looked worn out, but somehow still thriving with life greener than the grass around it. Dean supposed that it must have been Cas who had done it. Blasts of an angel's grace tended to do weird things, and blowing away grass while still managing to help it grow was no exception.

Dean walked a little further back, and wasn't surprised to find the body of some huge animal-like thing. It looked sort of minotaur-like, but perhaps even bigger. Stains of blood were running down it's cheeks, and Dean could see that Cas had killed it. But then where had he gone?

Despite his best efforts to push it away, Dean couldn't help but worry about Cas. Anything could be happening to the angel right now, after all. Dean knew that he needed to find him if he was ever going to get some peace of mind. He just hoped it happened sooner rather than later.

* * *

Dean had been walking for what felt like hours in the same direction, or at least what he thought was the same direction, and he was starting to get seriously bored. Even though it had felt long, he guessed that it had probably only been half an hour at the most. Although he had to count his blessings, however small, that he didn't feel hungry or thirsty. It was a little reminiscent of what he remembered in the Hell dreams, but with less pain, torturing, and all-around horror.

And hey, at least nothing had attacked him so far!

He had heard some noises a little ways off in the forest every now and then, but he hadn't thought too much about it. They were probably just checking out the new kid on the block. After all, it was probably pretty unusual to see a human soul in Purgatory. He wondered what they would think of Castiel if they saw him.

Just as he was thinking how stupidly massive the forest was, he spotted what looked like huts, maybe even civilization, a few hundred feet ahead. He had to stay cautious, though. Who could say what kind of traps the monsters here could create? From what he could remember of his dreams, some of the forest monsters were pretty tricky. He inched forward wearily, keeping his eyes open for any suspicious movement. His senses were as heightened as he could possibly get them to be.

If he had any doubt of it being a civilization before, it was erased now. As he got closer, he could see for sure that there were many buildings gathered around one large fire pit. So far, he hadn't spotted any actual people, but they were probably just inside. He had to be quiet if he was going to investigate without raising attention.

He shuffled in between two of the huts, taking them in at this closer view. They were thatched, like some Neanderthal shit or something. He wondered what type of freaks lived here, and if they had even been around to witness the magic of concrete. Whatever they were, it was probably pretty primal stuff. He didn't want to be around when they figured out someone had come into their sad excuse for a village without permission. Dean would ask the next group of monsters he came across about Cas.

Just as he was about to make a timely, graceful, and amazingly sneaky exit, he shuffled straight into a tiny figure. As he stumbled over the little body, he heard the tiniest of squeaks escape from it. Dean didn't want to set off any alarms or have this kid run screaming to his big bad dad, so he helped the guy up and gave him his most apologetic smile as he brushed the dirt off of his jacket.

Dean was mostly busy with making sure this kid didn't start yelling his head off, but in the back of his mind he was thinking about how the boy looked totally and completely human. What was some poor kid doing in Purgatory? Was Dean not the first human here after all?

The kid was only five or six, from the looks of it, and he sort of reminded Dean of Sam when he was younger. There was that familiar flop of hair all mussed around on his head, but this kid's was black instead of brown. He was pretty small, even for a kid, but Dean could tell he was gonna be a ladies man when he was older. He had green eyes, but not the kind of green that the Winchester brothers had. It was more of a emerald green, almost unnatural and yet gorgeous. He sure was cute, and he looked pretty tough, too. He had that face of strength and defiance that Dean loved to see in little kids. If Dean were ever going to have a son, this would be what he'd want his to be like.

"What-" the little boy tried to say, but was stopped by Dean's hand over his mouth. The boy's eyes widened as he looked up at the older man. Dean stood over him, silently willing the other to cooperate. The little boy nodded in understanding, and Dean released his hand from the boy's face.

"What are you?" the boy tried again, this time whispering as quietly as he could manage.

Dean frowned at that question. He wasn't used to small children asking him what he was, as opposed to who he was. He didn't think it was right when children knew that there was anything really sentient life in the world besides humans, but that was just another item on the long list of hypocritical views that Dean Winchester had on life.

"I'm a human," he replied, just as quietly, "My name is Dean Winchester.

Not bothering to hide his surprise, the boy gasped and backed up a little. Dean's hopes that the boy was another human were beginning to fall with every second. It seemed that this was a very rare case.

"Don't worry, kid. I'm not gonna try anything. I just wanted to know if anyone has seen my friend. He's my only hope of getting out of here."

That seemed to strike another cord in the boy, and Dean just hoped to God it wasn't a bad one. He held up his hands in the way that signified he wasn't going to hurt him, and started to shuffle a little closer.

The boy was no idiot,and Dean could see that. As he inched forward, the boy scooted back, never taking his eyes off the older man.

"You're trying to get out? Out of Purgatory?"

Trying to make as little noise as possible, Dean only nodded in response. The boy, who had been previously in a half crouched, very defensive posture, straightened up. His face relaxed, and an almost hopeful smile flashed over his face. His expression steeled into one of complete determination, and, he stuck out his hand as if he wanted Dean to shake it.

"I'm Elijah, and you're going to take me with you."

Well Dean certainly hadn't expected that. And maybe it was the shock of the situation, since it was pretty shocking, but suddenly everything went dark and he could feel himself hitting the ground.

* * *

"Dean! Dean, wake up! Dean!"

Even with his eyes closed, Dean could tell that amazingly obnoxious voice yelling at him belonged to Sam. He wished that his stupid younger brother would just shut the hell up and let him sleep. It was probably really early, too, knowing Sam. Sometimes the little brat would just storm into his room at ungodly hours of the morning and shake him until he came to. He was so annoying that way.

"Shut up, idiot."

Apparently, insulting his brother now had a positive effect on the little freak. Instead of calling Dean a jerk, or something along those lines, Sam just shouted his older brother's name and gave him a massive bear hug with his weirdly long arms.

Dean opened his eyes and gave Sam one of his trademark "you are way too weird to function" looks.

"Sam...What's going on?"

Breaking away from his older brother, Sam gave Dean one of his "I'm worried about you" looks that he was so famous for.

"You really don't know?"

He was met with a blank stare from Dean, so he un-wrinkled his forehead in the way that meant business, folded up his legs criss-cross style on the basketball court next to Dean, and prepared to tell Dean some harsh news.

"You sort of...fainted. You're were out for almost two hours."

Dean's eyes widened ever so slightly. This was bad on two accounts. It meant that he really had been halluci-dreaming in the day, and also Sam had called it fainting. Dean Winchester did not faint, he passed out. He made a mental note to get Sam back for that comment later, but for now he had bigger fish to fry.

"So that means all of that did happen..." he muttered to himself, but he knew that Sam heard it and was starting to freak out.

Dean looked up at his unnaturally large younger brother. He was the only person he could talk to about this, even if discussing their halluci-dreams was prohibited. Sam was the only one who would take him seriously.

"Sam, I think it's time to break a rule. We gotta talk about our dreams."

To Dean's surprise, Sam didn't look at all taken aback by this, and not even affronted in the least. His brother just nodded wisely, as if he knew that this was coming all along.

"So you had one just now," he replied, "which means you had one in the day."

Dean felt like his jaw dropped so far it touched the floor. If his brother already knew about this, had it happened to him? Something was definitely not right at Terayla Mental Hospital. Now Dean knew for sure that it was time to talk about their dreams, maybe even past time.

To be continued...


End file.
